


Where the Goddess Dwells

by SpaceLion97



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Azure Moon - Freeform, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd Needs a Hug, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, My Unit | Byleth Has Emotions, POV Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, POV First Person, POV My Unit | Byleth, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Romantic Soulmates, Sad Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Savior Complex, Self-Harm, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexy Times, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma, Trust, War, byleth - Freeform, dimileth, dimitri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 11:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25848484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceLion97/pseuds/SpaceLion97
Summary: Canon aligned reimagining of an intimate emotional and physical relationship between Dimitri and Byleth. First-person Female Byleth POV."Suddenly Dimitri’s expression changed dramatically, a smile wider than I’d ever seen crossing his face, his eyes lighting up. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I think I did finally hear the voice of the Goddess, but it wasn’t her exactly, it was… you.”
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & My Unit | Byleth, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 16
Kudos: 79





	1. Part I: White Clouds (Byleth) Chapter 1:Fever Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suggested Songs:  
> Interludium (Adrian Von Ziegler)

Chapter 1: Fever Dreams

A gray sky. Musty smell of tired horses. Sweating through my armor. A few yards away, I hear Jeralt shout, “Byleth! We need to finish this. NOW.” I glance at the few remaining soldiers. Merely boys, maybe fifteen or sixteen, they grit their teeth, but I can tell they are shaking.

“This is your last chance. Retreat or die.” The boys glance at each other under their cheap tin helmets. They stay put. I shove my inhibitions to the back of my mind, like always, and swing. Once, twice, and it’s over. As I ride toward Jeralt I hear two heavy thuds.

Strangely though, this time the thuds continue. Blinking out of restless sleep I realize that someone has been gently knocking on my door, possibly for quite some time now. With the strange happenings these days, I can’t be too careful. I grab my rain cloak and draw it around my shoulders, holding my dagger in one hand, just in case. I check my pocket watch. It’s 3:00 AM and windy. The Wyvern moon always is. I hesitate in front of the door and listen. The wind dies down and I hear a shaky “Professor?”. I would know that voice anywhere, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard it sound this way. I open the heavy door of my personal quarters.

Outside, hair mussed by wind is Dimitri. At that moment, it strikes me that I’ve never seen him out of his almost ludicrously formal prince’s uniform or his battle armor. It never occurred to me to imagine that he might have commoner’s sleeping clothes. He looks awful. I can see a sheen of sweat across his forehead and he must be cold, shivering ever so slightly. My mind ticks through all the possible reasons he could be here, but none of them quite make sense. He is almost painfully polite, so I can’t imagine he came down to ask an academic question so late, and if there was an emergency, surely, he would have gone to Rhea or Seteth first.

“Dimitri?”

“Professor. I’m sorry. It’s just… now that I’m here I feel silly for coming.”

“What is it?”

I can tell he is still trying to keep up his overly formal way of speaking. “I think… I must be sick. This is the third night in a row that I haven’t been able to fall asleep and now I feel feverish, but it’s not just that. There’s something I need to ask, or uh, tell you.”

Now that he says it, I’ve noticed the bags under his eyes during seminar the past few days. In our mock battles, he has been making more careless mistakes and been a bit too cautious. He seems to have lost his fire when sparring with Dedue and Felix, holding back for no reason. I invite him inside for a cup of tea. I discretely store my dagger in my cloak pocket, embarrassed. I light the small fire under my hearth and reach for the wool blanket on my bed.

"How come you didn’t bring a cloak? It’s so cold, you could get sicker. I think it would be best if you sit out of the tournament tomorrow.” The Battle of the Eagle and the Lion is tomorrow, the competition our whole house has been looking forward to for months. Maybe this could be why his stress seems to be coming to a head. I think back on all the times I was kept awake nausea before decisive battles as a mercenary.

Dimitri draws the blanket around his shoulders and drops his head into his hands, sitting on the edge of the bed as I offer him chamomile tea. “I can’t do that. I’ve never been absent before and I need to be there for everyone, to lead them. If I were in real battle, I wouldn’t be able to sit out. I’m supposed to be a role model.” I know he’s right. Without Dimitri, our house stands a strong chance of losing. Still, I can’t imagine him trying to fight like this.

I pause, thinking of what words I can use to convince him to swallow his pride. I’m not used to giving advice and try to avoid doing so unless absolutely necessary. “Even the greatest warriors are still human. I remember a time Jeralt went into battle feeling ill and after a couple of hits he passed out. I had to drag him onto my horse and the bandits we were after escaped. If you don’t take precautions and take care of yourself, you could sabotage everything you’ve worked for. If you feel ill, how come you didn’t tell Manuela? I know she would love to help you.”

He looks up at me and I can see deep bags under his eyes. “Honestly, once I got out of bed, I was so exhausted that I just started walking, almost automatically, and I wound up here. Some part of me needed to see you in particular, I think. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come. It’s improper and you need to rest for tomorrow. It’s not your job to take care of me. I don’t know how I can be so… weak.” He says, his voice cracking ever so slightly. My eyes widen as I realize he is on the verge of tears. I recognize his expression as one I’ve done myself so many times when trying to hide my emotions. I soften my tone and take a seat next to him on my bed. Here in the light of the fire, at night, in his pajamas, he looks so much smaller. After all, he is still a teenager, and yet he bears the burden of so many people. 

“Agh!” He puts a hand to his temple and winces.

“You need to lay down." I put a hand on his shoulder, and slowly he does. Shocked, I feel him touch my arm as he lays down, his eyes wide and scared. “Dedue told me that your headaches were getting worse. I had no idea that they were this bad.”

“Professor. I need to tell you something. Please.”

“It’s just… you need to know. I did something horrible. It was before you knew me, and I can’t stand the thought of you acting like you care for me like this without knowing what I’ve done. Felix knows. That’s why he hates me. I can’t help but feel like you need to know.”

“What could you possibly be talking about?”

“I killed them. I killed them all. The worst thing is…”

“What?”

“I enjoyed it.” At this, he looks away, burying his head in my pillow and I hear a muffled scream.

As a mercenary, I’ve become an expert at hiding my feelings, especially those of alarm. However, I do feel it, if only a little. Dimitri. He’s always so proper, so righteous, so respectful, even toward his enemies. I can’t imagine that what he’s saying could be the whole truth. These could be the ramblings of his fever blowing guilt from battle out of proportion.

Just then, he brings his fingers to his temple again. He’s sweating now. A lot. “Dimitri, what you need right now is rest. I want you to take some deep breaths and try to clear your mind, okay? You’re not thinking clearly.” I put my hand on his forehead. He winces. It’s burning. Knowing he is likely overheating, I lift the blanket off him, and I can see that his shirt is soaked through. I rifle through my wardrobe and reach for an old oversized shirt and hand it to him, looking away. It’s hard to see him like this, scared and shivering. I can’t help myself. I know that as a professor I should maintain stringent boundaries, but he looks so helpless. Hesitating at first, I put my hand on his head and run my fingers through his hair, echoing a distant memory of Jeralt soothing me when I was sick as a child. Dimitri closes his eyes and soon his breathing evens out and he is fast asleep. ~

At some point, I must’ve let my guard down and fallen asleep, leaned against my bed rest, because when I wake just before dawn, that’s where I find myself, still in my cloak. Dimitri is gone, and in his place on the bed is my neatly folded shirt and a note written in immaculate handwriting.

Professor,

Just to rest in your presence

has offered me more comfort

than you could possibly know.

I will see you early tomorrow

for our departure for the tournament.

Yours,

Dimitri


	2. Prince of Lions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suggested Songs:   
> Septimus (Illan Eshkeri)  
> Spirit Of the Wild (BrunuhVille)

Chapter 2: Prince of Lions

That morning, after a small breakfast, the Blue Lions ride out a feeling of tense excitement in the air. From my place at the rear, I keep a close eye on Dimitri, at the head of our caravan, but he seems fine. Great even. He and Dedue are talking and I can see him smiling and nodding, no evidence of the turmoil I saw in his eyes, making last night seem like a strange dream. After a long ride, when we arrive, everyone is still in high spirits. As we tie up our horses and prepare our weapons, I walk up to Dimitri and Dedue intently discussing Claude and Edelgard’s potential strategic weaknesses.

“Greetings. Do you have any pre-battle wisdom for us, Professor?”, Dimitri says as I try to read his facial expression for some hint or acknowledgment of what happened only a handful of hours ago. Part of me wants to pull him aside, but I know that now is not the right time, with so much riding on our success today. I resolve to talk to him later, maybe tonight.

Smiling ever so slightly, I say, “I think your strategy of splitting up to hit both houses simultaneously is brilliant, but don’t forget to look out for their ranged attacks. We only have a few minutes before the battle starts. Dimitri, why don’t you address your house?” I have never been one to rouse others for battles, despite the extent of my experience in them.

Dimitri nods, and as two who move simultaneously, he and Dedue head toward Dimitri’s armored horse. Mounted, he rides over to the others. I can’t help but notice how regal, how commanding of attention he can be at times like this. Even Felix and Sylvain turn their heads and quiet their conversation as he approaches. Our house seems to silently acknowledge him as not only a leader but as a future king, despite his protests that we treat him as a regular student.

“Lions, today I want you to remember that we fight not only to bring respect to the memory of the King of Lions, but to bring respect to ourselves, and to prove what we are made of. I want all of us to remember that we are students of the Officers Academy of Garreg Mach, and we shall fight with honor and never hold back! I believe in each one of you, and I want you to believe in yourselves today as I do and as I know the Professor does. Ready your weapons and prepare for battle! Get into position and steel yourselves.”

~

As I survey the state of our battalion, I realize that despite everyone looking rather rough, we have sustained no losses. We close in as a circular formation around Edelgard and Hubert, having already taken out the Golden Deer and the remainder of the Black Eagles earlier in the battle. Looking at the pair, I can see the marked annoyance in Edelgard’s eyes and the rage seething behind Hubert’s.

“Edelgard, it’s time to admit your defeat!”, Dimitri says this in an almost teasing way as he laughs slightly through his pants of exhaustion.

Edelgard’s tone never wavers. “Hubert, there is no point in tiring ourselves further. It seems with the guidance of the professor Dimitri has managed to best us today. We need to make the Black Eagles understand that this will not happen again.” I can tell she is avoiding eye contact with Dimitri, her pride hurt, but he does not rub any more salt in the wound. As Edelgard gently sets her axe at her feet, an uproar of cheers emits from my house and I can’t help but allow my smile to grow just a little wider. I flinch slightly at the feeling of a large hand patting my shoulder and I look up to see Dimitri, sweating and smiling.

“Thank you, Professor, I… no, we. We could not have done this without you.” Startled, he realizes his hand is on my shoulder and nervously jerks it off me. “Sorry, sometimes I get a bit carried away.” Regaining his composure, he turns to address the others, ignoring Edelgard stalking back to the rest of her house, once again carrying her ax against her shoulder. “Today, we have worked hard, so today we must celebrate! Professor, with your permission of course, I request that we join for a feast in the dining hall to revel in our victory!” I nod my head, smiling ever so slightly. I can’t help but let his uncontrollable joy affect me, and I laugh quietly to myself.

“Of course, Dimitri.”

~

Riding away from our battle, I let my thoughts wander as I admire the clouds turning orange and pink on the horizon. My life has had such a strange and winding path to have led me here, fighting with and leading so many important people only a few years younger than me. I am surprised at the warmth in my chest that must be pride, an emotion I have seldom felt in my years as a mercenary. I think vaguely to myself that I must have done something right.

Ahead of me, looming in the distance, majestic and matronly, is Garreg Mach. Never did I think Jeralt and I would find somewhere we might settle, perhaps even think of as home. Much less did I think that place would be a cathedral. My father was never pious. He didn’t try to hide the disdain in his voice whenever talk of the Church of Seiros came up. The fear I saw in his eyes the day he told me we were going to stay with the Church still perturbs me, but I trust him. He must have a good reason to change our nomadic life so drastically.

The laughs of my students as we finally arrive at the castle shake me out of my thoughts. I can’t help but worry for them. Their smiles are still so innocent. Many of them have not yet felt the bitter permanence of watching their comrades die in battle. I can only hope that they will never have to, though I know what the future holds for many of them as children of nobility. I take my time tying up my horse, patting her on the shoulder. It is only a few minutes before Sylvain, Ashe, and Annette come and pull me toward the dining hall, insisting I join the revelry. Watching them reminisce on the experiences of the day, I feel strangely like an outsider, and after finishing my meal and a glass of brandy, I walk out to the balcony to get some fresh air.

“Ah em.” Clearly trying not to startle me, I hear Dimitri clear his throat behind me. “I didn’t think you were planning to leave so soon. Weren’t you enjoying yourself?”

“Of course, I was. I’ve just never been good at conversations. You know that.” I grin, feeling the warmth of the brandy eroding away my conversational filter.

“Really? I happen to think that’s not true, Professor. You merely speak only when you feel you have something important to say. I can’t tell you how much I admire that quality in you. Sometimes I wish I were more reticent.”

“You think too highly of me.”

He shakes his head decisively. “No. Anyway, I need to ask you something. Will you join me for a ride?”

“Right now?”

“Yes. I know it’s late, but after… after how things were last night, I really would like to talk to you again. Away from everyone else. Besides, there’s a place I’ve been wanting to show you for a while now.”

Against my better judgment, before I know it, I’ve saddled my horse again and joined Dimitri by the back entrance to the monastery. My body feels tired, but the excitement of being out in the crisp night air and the slight apprehension I have to this outing wakes up my mind. Wordlessly, Dimitri clicks to his horse and I follow his lead into the forest.


	3. Murmurs of the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suggested Songs: For a Lost Love (Adrian Von Ziegler)

As we ride silently, my apprehension slowly fades as I remember how much I love the rush of night rides. The glow of the moon watching over us. The chirrup of crickets and the far-off sounds of owls warning their prey. Since I was a little girl, I’ve always felt more at home in the darkness than in the searching light of the day. The darkness asks fewer of the questions I never seem to have the answers to.

As Dimitri leads, I get the feeling that he has ridden this fading trail many times. His horse turns seemingly with no signal from him. We ride for what feels like a little over an hour in silence, before he finally slows up, looking back at me. “Here.” The terrain has gotten slightly rockier and we tie our horses to a tree and move forward on foot. As we walk, the full moon reveals a clearing in the trees, an archway to an outcrop of rocks overlooking the river, silver, and snaking toward the dark horizon. With a motion of his hand, he beckons to me to come to sit beside him on the rocks. Above are what seem to be millions of stars, the milky way streaking across the sky. I can’t remember many nights clearer than this one.

I pull my cloak around me and join him, distracted by constellations I can’t remember the names of. As I settle on a rock, I realize that this is less of an outcrop and more of a cliff with a sharp drop off, hundreds of feet above the scenic view below. With my feet dangling over the edge, the paranoid part of my brain drunkenly wonders if Dimitri brought me here to push me over the edge. I chuckle to myself. Despite my prowess in battle, he is easily twice as strong as me, and I’ve seen him break weapons no one should have any business damaging. Before my mind takes me too far down that pathway, though, I once again feel his large hand against my shoulder, but this time he reaches for the shoulder furthest from him, pulling me towards him. As a confusing and pleasant warmth runs through my chest I think, this is it. If he’s going to push me it’s going to happen now. Instead, I hear his deep voice soften, once again pulling me out of my reverie, melting my inhibitions away with his tone. “Professor, is this okay? What are you laughing about?”

“Is what okay?”, I ask, keeping my gaze on the sky.

He moves his hand to gently rest on the nape of my neck. “This.”

Shivers run down my spine, and I shake ever so slightly, my brain trying to calculate a response that would suit the depth of Dimitri’s question. After he came to me so vulnerable just last night, I’d be lying if I said hadn’t wondered about what his visit could mean. I pull a small silver flask from my cloak and take a sip. I need more brandy before I can respond properly.

“Professor there’s something I need you to know. I can’t think of a better way to say it without making it sound childish. I feel my brain is like a labyrinth, a never-ending maze full of beasts and shadows. They never stop running through my mind. It’s been this way since I was a little child. These thoughts never letting me rest, never letting me slow down, never letting me forget what I’ve done, and what I didn’t do.” He pauses, searching for words. “After last night something changed. That’s why I wanted to bring you here. Maybe I’m being selfish. Maybe I’m just chasing that feeling again.”

Lacking a verbal response, I feel my hand inching toward his. “What changed?”’

When you let me rest beside you, the warmth I felt, the safety, it melted the beasts and shadows away, and all I could see was you. When I woke up, I felt…lighter somehow. I haven’t felt that way, since…before.”

Finally mustering up the courage to look at him, I see darkness shadow his eyes and I realize that I don’t want to ask what happened after Dimitri’s before. At least not yet. He looks like he is trying to hold back tears. “I’m so broken, Professor. I think if you knew everything you would run away from here right now.” Now he is crying in earnest. “I don’t deserve any of this.” I move my hand to his back and lean my head against his shaking side.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” I try to sound confident, but my own voice quivers with the weight of commitment. After several minutes his breathing slows, and he returns his gaze to beyond the river.

Dimitri’s voice sounds so much softer now, almost a whisper. “When I first came to the Officers’ Academy, I used to come here almost every night after Dedue went to bed. I would get up just a few hours before dawn and ride to this exact spot. I’m not sure why it called to me so much. Maybe because it faces North, to Fhirdiad, and everything that happened there. My whole life, I never really believed, but I would come here and I’d wait to hear something from the Goddess. I kept waiting because there was a question that I really needed to know the answer to, but no matter how hard I thought, I never heard anything, just the beasts in my own head. I told myself that if I still hadn’t heard by the end of this year, I was going to... God I sound like such a coward. You know.” He gestured callously over the cliff, suddenly looking away from me. “This past week I wasn’t even sure if I could wait that long.”

Suddenly Dimitri’s expression changed dramatically, a smile wider than I’d ever seen crossing his face, his eyes lighting up. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I think I did finally hear the voice of the Goddess, but it wasn’t her exactly, it was… you.”

All the thoughts swirling in my own mind ceased and all I could hear was Dimitri’s “you.” This was a part of him I never realized existed. A part of him that must have felt so weak, that wanted to run so far away from himself that he could never come back again. I marveled and shook at the thought that he believed it was me that pulled him out of such a pit. Now it was my turn for my voice to shake. “Dimitri, what was your question?”

“I want to save that. Right now, I just want to sit and be here with you. Please.” Then, as he gazed at me, I saw something click behind his eyes that indicated some kind of animalistic impulse. All at once, he pulled his hand off my shoulder and up to my face. He drew me into him with such force that the only thing keeping me from losing my balance was his arms and his sheer willpower. I had never been kissed before, but I could tell this was not a romantic kiss. This was a hungry, clumsy kiss. A kiss that took and took until you had no more left to give.

~

After this night, Dimitri took up nearly as much space in my own mind as he told me I had in his, though we acted no differently toward each other at the monastery. Such was the surreal nature of our relationship: a future king and a mercenary with no past.


	4. Voices of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suggested Songs: Wilt Beauty (Adrian Von Ziegler)

Chapter 4: Voices of the Past

My eyes are burning with smoke. I can barely see a few yards in front me. They just keep coming, throwing themselves at us with that disturbing, vacant look in their eyes, men, and women alike. We knew something was amiss before we arrived at Remire village, that the villagers were acting strange, but we had no idea of how far south things had gone since we got the reports.

“Professor! Are you sure it’s okay for us to hurt them? I don’t think they even know…” Ashe’s voice trails off as I nod to him. There are still a few in the village who need us to protect them, and the only way we can do that is by cutting down these empty husks of people. Ashe. The boy who came to me so wide eyed with tales of knights in shining armor. I feel a twinge of hurt at the sight of his idealized dream eroding away as he forces himself to cut down strangers with his bow.

It’s hard to tell how long we’ve been in the village now. Hours turn to minutes and minutes turn to hours. “Ashe, you should head back to the gates. You’ve done more than enough. I need to go. Watch your back.” He looks as though he wants to say more to me, but I turn away, my thoughts racing. I can’t think of the last time I saw Dimitri. Before the battle, he was clutching at his temple, a far off look in his eyes. He was staring into the flames with more rage in his expression than I had ever seen before. To clear as much ground as possible we had organized trios with different fighting styles to split off into different parts of the village. Before our group could even begin to strategize, Dimitri had walked away from Ashe and I and into the haze.

All I can hear is the pounding in my own brain and clacking of my boots on the pavement. A thought passes through my mind that maybe I’m not the unbiased, unfeeling teacher I pride myself on being, running headlong toward one student while ignoring the battle at large. “Dimitri?!” I call out, trying to hide the concern in my voice. No answer.

I barge into countless empty buildings, feeling the dread rising in my body, until finally, I see him. He’s sitting up against the wall of a barn, head in his hands, his armor soaked in blood. I fear the worst. As I walk in, I see what the light hadn’t revealed to me before: two dead horses and five bodies strewn across the floor. The blood drying on Dimitri’s armor isn’t his own. Five mages, not only killed, but killed brutally, faces barely recognizable, merely dents filled with blood. Their necks are at odd angles that are difficult to look at. He didn’t hear me open the door. My mind duels between wanting to run toward him and from him. As a mercenary, I’d seen enough casualties of war to know that necessary as they were, these were not practical deaths, but vengeful, rage-filled ones.

In the dark I must look like a silhouette to him in the barn door. He glances up. “I need… you to leave. Just go. I need you…to go,” his voice hoarse and panting. I stand frozen, not sure if I am capable of leaving him like this. All at once, he looks up and I see once again that something has switched in his brain. He points to the door.

He shouts, his teeth gritted, “LEAVE. NOW.”

I am so startled by his change in tone that I slowly back out, following his order, but the image of the bodies surrounding him and the empty look on his face is burned into my eyes. The rest of the battle feels like a blur. My mind is clouded by the thought of the corpses he created, beaten to a pulp, the rage in his voice when he dismissed me from a scene he never intended for me to see.

~

As the last of the mages began to retreat, we gather by the city gates only to find Tomas, laughing, ranting about being “the savior of all”. So, we were right. He is the traitor. He’s the one who tortured these villagers.

All at once, Dimitri, armor still caked with blood, from behind me, strides toward Solon, lance drawn. I hadn’t seen him since the barn.

“I’LL TEAR YOU TO SHREDS!” His eyes are blank, empty of everything but blind rage. Without thinking, I step forward and grasp his arm. Unexpectedly, Felix also moves to restrain him. I’ve never seen a look of such apprehension on Felix’s face. He looks genuinely afraid. Panting, Dimitri moves to shrug us off, and just as he does, Solon disappears. I should be relieved, but his absence is even more unnerving. Dimitri quickly stomps off without making eye contact with anyone.

Just as suddenly as Solon faded into darkness. A masked man on horseback appears, addressing Jeralt and myself. The Flame Emperor. I ready myself to attack.

“Do not misunderstand. This man, Solon, my ally, I had no idea of his intentions to complete….this experiment.”

I am still in a daze. Jeralt speaks first. “I have no desire to understand you. You will come with us now. Or die.”

“You know, you could stop this. Solon’s violence. With her sword on our side, needless deaths would no longer need to occur.” The masked figure gestures to me. “Join me.”

I answer by drawing my sword and slowly advancing.

“Pray that you do not live to regret this choice.”

In that moment, Dedue runs toward us, an unusual look of panic on his face, seemingly too distracted to notice the strange figure in front of us. “Have you seen His Highness? He’s not at our rally point.” As I turn toward him, the Flame emperor dissolves without a word.

We rode away from the battle knowing more about where we stood, about Solon, about the Death Knight, and about The Flame Emperor’s tense relationship with them. But I felt like I knew so much less.

~

Dimitri, instead of taking his usual place at the front of the caravan, rode about a half-mile behind us, and in the bloody state he was in, no one questioned this choice.

“Damn boar… Lost it again didn’t he?” I hear Felix hiss as he matches pace with my horse, nodding back toward Dimitri. I give him a sidelong glance, both wanting and not wanting to know more.

“Surely you must know by now. You’ve seen him practice. You’ve seen him break his weapons. He can’t control himself. He acts guilty, but I think he likes it. He puts on this good-boy act for the world, but when someone’s in front of him on the battlefield he can’t help himself. He destroys them. I shudder at the thought of their last moments.” Suddenly, I feel sick at the sound of Felix’s words and I want to get as far away from him as possible. I kick my horse and ride up to the front. “You know I don’t lie, Professor,” Felix scoffs at me as I ride ahead.

~

Despite the events of the day, the image in my head isn’t of Solon, the villagers, the Death Knight, or even the Flame Emperor. It’s Dimitri. The same lips that pulled me in so close pushing me away just as hard, a juxtaposition that keeps me awake as I lay in bed, willing the thoughts to leave me in the blank peace of sleep.

After a couple hours of wrestling with my mind I grab my cloak and lantern and walk out into the damp night. It’s too humid for stars and the moisture cools my skin as I let my feet lead me, ultimately to the dormitories. I stare at his door, feeling just as ridiculous as he must have the night he came to see me. I doubt he’s fallen asleep, but I wonder if the anger (or was it shame?) from earlier is still burning sharp inside of him. Before I work up the nerve to knock, I hear his voice catching with sobs. “Today I saw them. Father, they looked just like them. The ones I saw in the flames. I got them. Just like you said to… I know. I can do better. No, I will do better. I swear it wasn’t for nothing. I promise, I can do better.” After that, his cries make his voice inaudible. He must be talking in his sleep. This is how I justify knocking on his door. No one should have to stay in a dream like the one he must be having. Something pushes me forward and I don’t wait for him to come to the door before I slowly open it.

Dimitri is sitting up at his desk, eyes wide open, still in his armor, still completely covered in dried blood. Instead of crying out, he just stares at me, seemingly trying to decide if I am part of reality or not. Before speaking, he seems to give up trying to discern and he lays his head in his arms on the desk. Like approaching a frightened, but dangerous animal, I approach him slowly, speaking softly. I surprise myself by uttering intentions I didn’t even know I had until I spoke them aloud.

“Dimitri. I came to check on you. I was worried after today. Were you asleep just now?” I don’t want to overwhelm him.

“I… no I wasn’t.” He looks up slightly from his desk, his voice tense, his eyes red with exhaustion. “I didn’t want you to see what you saw today. Now do you understand what I tried to tell you?” He sighs.

“Dimitri, you need rest… what are you talking about?”

“You saw what I did. What I could’ve done. You need to stay away from me.”

At this point, I no longer have any words for him. None that he will believe anyway, but something keeps me from leaving. I glance around his room. For the emotional state he is in, the room is remarkably immaculate. His bed is still made, his books square with the corner of his desk. His room seems an extension of the façade he presents to the rest of the academy, of strength, stability, and clarity. Unlike the other dorms and even the staff quarters, Dimitri’s room extends further back with a small hallway. In somewhat of a daze I walk further back and find a built-in ornate bath and sink, with a small stained-glass window above. I suppose even as a student of the academy, Dimitri isn’t immune to special treatment from the church. He is the crown prince of Fhirdiad, after all.

I never was someone who was good at comforting others. Especially my father. The only way I could try was by starting the fire for him or putting the horses to rest. Things that would make his life easier. I never knew the words to say after the fatigue of a particularly violent battle. Maybe there are no words.

An idea slowly taking shape in my mind, I play with the faucets of the bath until the temperature is just warm enough that it steams. I light the candles around the bath and sink and rummage until I find the linen, hidden away in a chest. They’re all dry. He must not use this room very often. In the same chest, I find dusty bottles labeled in cursive “Essence of Lavender” and “Essence of Eucalyptus”. With some effort I take the ancient caps off and pour some of both into the bath, the smell of medicine and flowers wafting into the air as the room fills with vapor. The square bath is large, built in into the side of the wall, so I sit for what feels like a long time before it’s full, gazing at the candlelight twinkling against the stained glass. The pang of metal boots against the bricks tears me from my daze. Softly, I say, “You need to get clean before you can rest. Also, you smell terrible.” As I turn around, I see the tiniest glint of a smile cross his face.” Starting with his boots, he begins setting his armor aside, and by the time he starts to take off his shirt, satisfied that he will follow my advice, I get up to leave.

“Wait. Professor? Could you stay? Just for a little while? It helps having you here.” I nod and walk toward his desk.

“No. I mean in here. Next to me.” He grabs my arm and then, correcting himself, he gently takes my hand and walks me toward the bath. “Sit with me.” I can’t help but stare at him now, shirtless, wearing only his undershorts, dangling his feet in the bathwater, sitting on the edge. “When you’re here, the rattling in my head starts to go away. Earlier, during the battle, the rattling took over. I yelled at you. I’m sorry.” I try to look away, but I can’t ignore the sheen of sweat on his bare chest, or the shake in his voice.

He places his hand on my head, stroking my hair. I reach for one of the smaller cloths and dip it into the water. “You’re still covered in...” I move the warm cloth to his face, removing the blood. Looking at him in the faint glow, I realize how tired he looks. How many sleepless nights has he had? I think of the images of battle that must be playing on loop as he tries to sleep. As I clear the blood away, he smiles a fragile, guilty smile as I let my hand rest against his cheek. He’s only a couple of years younger than me, his face still soft despite everything he’s been through. He breaks my gaze and slowly steps all the way into the bath. It’s deep enough that it nearly covers his shoulders. He looks up at me and something inside me gives in. Leaving my sleeping shirt on, I take my pants off and quickly lower myself into the bath on the side farthest from him.

Before I can protest, he moves toward me. “Professor. Tell me the truth. Are you afraid of me?” He places both of his hands on my shoulders. I think. I think about his hungry kiss, about his hands that could snap my neck if they wanted, about the bodies, about who he was talking to. I lie.

“No.” I say softly, looking right into his blue eyes.

It’s then that he gently pulls me toward him, moving his hands up toward my chin, and presses his lips against mine. He moves slower, more methodically than he did before. This time I can tell he’s thinking about what he’s doing, about his intentions, about how all of this feels. My own body leads me, surrendering to him, as he leans down toward me. His hands move over my shoulder, past my chest, lingering on my waist, pulling it toward his. My face warms as I can feel him, the most intimate parts of him, hardening up against me.

Suddenly he stops smiling and pulls away, sitting again on the far side of the bath, looking down. “I’m sorry. I… Professor. I can’t help how much… I want you. Being next to you feels like… I don’t know… heaven, maybe. Like every bad thing could melt away.” My breath quickens, and I sink further into the water to hide my expression. “Professor….please say something?”

Unexpectedly, my mind clears and I’m overcome with relief, to be sitting beside him, in the steam, seeing him clean again. I feel myself smile. “Dimitri, it’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay. I promise. You still need to sleep though. For a long time.” Timidly, we both step out, drying ourselves, blowing out the candles, and dressing. As Dimitri walks me to the door, I turn to leave, and then hesitate. I put both of my hands on his chest and look up at him. “Promise you’ll go to sleep as soon as I go?”

“I promise.” He says pulling me close, “As long as I know you aren’t far away, I’ll be able to rest.”


	5. The Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suggested Songs:  
> Even in the Shadows (Enya)

Chapter 5: The Tower

The muffled sound of the orchestra’s lively music follows me outside as I take a moment to escape the heat of the ball. Once again, here I am, socially out of my depth. With some help from my flask, warm memories from the night flutter to my mind. I think of the carefree way Claude swung me through the air as though we had the whole world at our fingertips. The flirtatious sidelong glances I caught students giving each other. The romantic imagining that all our lives could be so much more than war. Though I feel hope is a luxury I cannot usually afford, holding on to the proposal Dimitri made, that we would all be united at the millennium festival in five years gives me a strange kind of happiness. The thought of my house growing up to be strong nobles with their own families and dreams brings me a sense of unexpected pride. I never thought I’d allow myself to grow so attached to them. But what of me? Where will I be? Here? No… I can’t imagine that kind of permanency. I’ve never set down roots before. Why would I start? What could make me?

“Professor. I thought I’d find you here. Care to join me?” Dimitri holds out his arm. I’m taken aback by the way his prince’s armor gleams in the light of the evening.

It puts me at ease to hear him address me in the formal tone he took with me when we first met. I follow him, but I can’t bring myself to take his arm. My body resists the gallantry of the nobles. I feel I’m somehow too dirty, too low to take part, especially as Dimitri’s formal wear accentuates his lofty status. It’s so easy to forget the other parts of him. Our time in his room feels like a distant dream. This power differential between him and I makes me twinge with something that might be jealousy, though my own tone doesn’t betray me.

“Aren’t you going to dance with Edelgard?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “No… I don’t think so. Actually, it’s strange you ask. She’s the one who taught me to dance when we were only children. We… we were friends once. I have no idea what she thinks of me now. She probably forgot about the whole thing.”

My drink emboldens me to press further. “You were friends? What was she like back then?” Edelgard has always been an emotional brick wall. Just like me. She only ever says exactly what she means and never anything more. I’m curious.

“Have I ever told you that Edelgard and I are siblings by marriage?” I shake my head, slightly shocked, given how detached they seem now.

  
“We only spent a year together in childhood. My stepmother, her mother, never even hinted to me about El, er, Edelgard.” At this, he frowns, lost in his thoughts. “I didn’t find out until much later. That year we spent together though, was one of the happiest of my life. Really, she was much like she is now, but she had more joy in her then. Her scolds always had a smile behind them. But they made her leave. Suddenly. When that happened, I wanted to give her something. All I could think to give her was my dagger. Ridiculous, I know.”

“I don’t think it’s ridiculous. Daggers are useful.”

“Of course, you think that! You were practically a mercenary from birth. I don’t know if it was a proper gift for someone as important as her, though. I just wanted her to know that she could use it to do anything she wanted. I couldn’t stand the way she was dragged all across Fódlan for who knows what reasons. Anyway, that time is long past, and now we are nothing more than colleagues. Fellow nobles. Nothing more.”

I nod silently, taking it all in. It’s hard to imagine Edelgard ever being a child. She’s always carried herself and spoke with such a sense of purpose, never getting too personal with others. “Do you wish you were closer now?”

“I... don’t know. So much has happened. To her and me. So much has changed. We’ve changed. I don’t know if she could ever see me the same way again even if she wanted to. I fear it’s wasted energy to try to rekindle a past I can never get back to.” We stare out into the darkness, quietly confirming that there are some things we can never retrieve.

“Professor, there’s a place I want to show you. Come with me?”

We walk together, and I follow his lead. Up spiral stone stairs, further into the cool air of the night. The music grows softer and softer. The cracked archways look even more ancient in the moonlight, new growth of vines embracing decrepit stone, the occasional flower peeking out.

“Professor, have you heard the legend of the Goddess tower?” I see what looks like a rare glint of mischief in Dimitri’s eyes. “They say that the Goddess will bless any wish you make here. I don’t know…” His voice is a little shaky. “What do you think Professor? Is she here with us?”

Anything I could say might make me sound delusional. It’s too soon to tell him that I have my own voices to contend with. So I stay silent.

He doesn’t wait for my response. “Even if she is real, I doubt someone like me would be capable of talking to her. Much less being worthy of asking her for favors.”

His self-deprecation frustrates me into a burst of whimsy. I can’t help but want to try and goad him into a tiny bit of joy. “I don’t care. I think we should make a wish anyway. We came all the way up here. We deserve it.” Leaning over the tower wall, I realize how close we are. He places his hand gently over mine and looks at me, with an expression of resigned happiness. “If you’re making me wish… then I wish…” He closes his eyes as if in prayer. “That none of us will die in battle. That no one else will be taken from us.” He shakes his head. Even as far as wishes go, I can tell he doesn’t believe in it. We both know the fate of knights and officers. “But maybe, with the way the world is now, it would be better to just wish that you and I could always be together. If… I could just…promise my future to you, I think that would be enough.” He waits. Waiting for me to scoff or laugh, or run away, I’m not sure, but still I stay, interlacing my fingers with his own. I squeeze his hand.

His voice grows even quieter, and he seems pained. “I shouldn’t be saying things like this. No. I can’t say things like this. Even just to make a wish. My life is not my own. There are things I need to do. I may not even have a future to promise.”

I have no response for him. We just stand there for a long time, my hand in his, gazing into the endless night. I can’t fool myself into thinking I don’t want both of Dimitri’s wishes, but I cannot possibly dare to hope for them to come true.


	6. The Pit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suggested Songs: Martyrium (Adrian Von Ziegler)

Chapter 6: The Pit

I see him die thousands of times. When I try to remember it, it only comes back in flashes. But still, it comes. Jeralt smiling. Monica smiling. My father collapsing. Horrible sounds. The sounds of insides being rearranged. Her sickeningly girlish laugh. Praying, no, begging, to Sothis, telling her to help me change time. Every time I go back, all I can see is that ghastly… thing… with the white eyes, a wall stopping me from saving Jeralt the way he saved me countless times. After reliving the horror for what feels like hours, my heart finally gives in. Something inside me breaks. Everything I’ve shoved away for so long overflows. My body is no longer my own. These wet cheeks are not mine. These feelings aren’t mine. This man on the ground can’t be my father. This must be happening somewhere far away, in someone else’s dream. To me, Jeralt was always invincible. He was my hero. There for me with his steady voice and unshakable aura since I was tiny. I don’t think I ever saw him panic in all my years living with him and fighting by my side. Even now, with death coming so quickly, he only smiles, wondering at the fact that, finally, I cry. I still have so many questions for him, so much I still need to learn. I’m not ready for this. My knees buckle, and I fall into the grass, sobbing.

Then, the rain. Covering everything, masking my tears. I’m not aware of what happened immediately afterward. I don’t even remember returning to my bed, or who moved my father’s body, or what I’m supposed to be doing now. My feelings of helplessness and my desire for revenge battle in my mind.

In a trance, unable to rest, I walk to my father’s former quarters, Sothis guiding me with her whispers to his diary. His handwriting is unexpectedly crisp and clean. I find myself wondering if he knew he wouldn’t live to tell me these things himself. Maybe that’s why he left such a fastidious record. Stories of my mother, who died because of me. Of my silent infancy. A baby with no heartbeat. No proof of human lifeblood flowing through me. The terror Lady Rhea struck into his heart. Filling in the blanks of my past doesn’t satisfy me in the way that I thought it would. It only makes me wonder more. It only makes me wish I could hear his rough laughter just one more time. Makes me wish I could hear him critique my grip or my strike once again. It would all be different if he were across from me telling me this, rather than reading it in his still, permanent handwriting.

As I lose myself further and further into the musings of my father’s past, I don’t hear any footsteps before I feel a heavy, gloved hand on my shoulder. I startle at the sudden touch and Dimitri’s concerned voice.

“Professor, would you come outside with me? I brought us some food from the dining hall. I noticed you haven’t eaten anything since yesterday morning when…” His voice trails off, afraid to speak aloud the unchanging truth that both of us know. I can’t bring myself to verbally respond, but, too exhausted to resist, I follow him, and we walk out, the same direction he took me the when we went on our night ride. Instead of continuing to the cliff though, he stops in a soft looking meadow. Today the sun is out, warming the wet grass, mocking me, begging me to indulge in a kind of comfort I can no longer feel. In a moment of clarity, I realize I haven’t said a word to Dimitri the entire walk. I look to see if he’s upset, but he just looks solemn, glancing back at me with a look of concern. Draped over his shoulder is a blanket I recognize from his room and in his hand is a bag of food. Gently, he lays the blanket over the damp grass and carefully sets two sandwiches across from each other. Something about the gentle way he does this makes me want to cry again, but I fight it, and sit in the spot he made for me.

“I, I’m sorry. I wish I could have done something, anything, to stop what happened. The kind of pain you’re feeling right now. It’s awful. Unspeakably awful. None of my words can ever do anything to change that. It’s the kind of pain that still shakes me awake when I dream of it. I can still see it as if it’s happening right in front of me, the moment my father died. When they cut his head off. When my stepmother left me alone. It never went away.” I see a shadow cross his eyes. “After a while though, I searched my heart, I realized that I need to live for them. All of the people that died that day. I need to live to make sure they didn’t die in vain. I found my purpose again. And then I found you.” He reaches for me, placing his hands firmly on my shoulders, gripping a little too tightly. “I need you to know that I found a reason to live again when I never thought I could. I think you will too. No…I know you will.” I stop fighting. The tears come again. I turn a deep red, ashamed of the weakness I’m showing. I melt into him, sobbing into his shoulder. I feel smaller than I ever have before in his arms, his hands stroking my hair and holding me close. We lay in the grass, my head on his chest, and a lifetime’s worth of tears spill out of me. Everything I tried so hard to push down, everything I told myself that I didn’t feel, coming out. He hushes me like an injured child and whispers into my ear that he’ll never leave my side. Never, never. That he’ll be my side. All the way until the bitter end.

~

The Church gives me an entire month off. Every day of that month Dimitri takes me out to the same meadow. For the first few days I can’t bring myself to eat or talk much at all, but he never makes me feel uncomfortable. He never feels the need to fill the silence. We just sit there together, and it feels like enough to be by his side. It’s enough to know that someone who has felt the same pain as me, probably much more, is still living and breathing beside me. On the hardest days, when I can’t even bring myself to get out of bed on my own, Dimitri walks to my room and we lay in bed together. He reads to me from his book of legends about knights of old. It’s horribly boring, but something about just listening to his voice read ancient words until I fall asleep brings me a sense of peace, reminds me that humans have been loving, grieving, and living for thousands of years. I’m not the first, and certainly not the last, and it makes me feel less alone. Sometimes, when he thinks I’m asleep, I catch him humming some long-lost lullaby while he runs his fingers through his hair.


	7. A Dagger in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suggested Songs   
> Soldier (Fleurie)

Chapter 7: A Dagger in the Night

My nights are the longest they’ve ever been. I never used to dream, but now all I can see is my father. My father smiling over my tears, my father writhing in pain, the sudden panic of helplessness. Sleep is no longer a comfort. It must be close to 4:00 in the morning. Tonight, there are no stars. I’m wandering the perimeter of the second floor of the monastery, absently gazing over the edge of the wall. I’m less than a little surprised to see my fellow nightwalker. It’s my turn to sneak up behind him. Instead of turning to me softly and pulling me toward him though, as has become his habit, he tenses up and grabs my shoulder when I touch him. I wince.

“It’s them.”

I can practically see his heart hardening before me, his hand clutching at the sword by his side. Dimitri is always armed. In both body and mind. We’re too far away to hear exact words, but from this distance, I can see that it is, indeed, them. My stomach lurches. Monica. The girl who stabbed my father. Solon and the Flame Emperor are by her side talking to that phantom…thing with the white eyes. I start seeing stars at the edge of my vision. That blank stare was the last thing I saw before I realized he was gone. Jeralt was never coming back. I hold the ledge trying to steady myself. When my tunnel vision widens I have only one desire. I need to kill it. I need to kill it now. I start sprinting toward the stairs, toward them. I don’t think about Dimitri. I don’t think about being outnumbered. I just run.

“PROFESSOR!” The crack in Dimitri’s voice starts to break through my consciousness. From where I’m standing, I watch the group below disappear into violet light. They must have heard him. I curse under my breath. I want to scream at him. This is the first time I’ve ever felt such resentment toward Dimitri. He stole it. He stole my chance to destroy them. But then I look up. Tears stream down his face as he runs toward me, desperate, and grabs me. He tugs me toward him with so much force that the wind is knocked out of me and I gasp.

He buries his face into my hair, so I barely hear him. “I…I can’t lose you. I can’t let them take you from me. When I wished… my wish. I meant it. Okay? Please, just stay here. Please. I don't know what I would do if I lost you too.”

I’m still too shocked to think straight, and I can’t escape Dimitri’s hold even I had the will to. I don’t. The stars at the corners of my eyes come back, but this time they keep coming. In a numb daze, we stagger back to Dimitri's dormitory.

~

The light rouses me from a blessedly dreamless sleep. I am disoriented. The familiar smell of Dimitri’s room puts me at ease, though I don’t remember coming here on my own. My eyes are tired, opening them even slightly feels like work. When I do, I see him staring intently at a dagger that looks tiny in his hand. He flips it over and over, transfixed. He must see me move in its reflection as he jolts to awareness, cautiously putting the dagger in his desk drawer. Even though his hair is combed, and he smells of soap, he looks like he didn’t rest at all last night. He puts my hand in both of his, touching it as gingerly as he did the dagger.

“Professor, I’m not sorry for what I did. I can’t be sorry. Even if it was selfish. I need you. I need you more than you know. If you had gone down there alone….” He just shakes his head and winces. “I am going to make it up to you, I swear. Last night, after I carried you back, I went out. I found something they left behind. I overheard the guards on night watch talking about the Knights planning to strike some mages they saw in the forest. It has to be them. We can go. But we must do it right this time. I’m not letting anything else happen to you. Your enemy is my enemy. I swear it. I swear it on my life.”


	8. The Fell Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suggested Songs: The Spirit Dais (Fire Emblem OST)

We ride in silence, with no lamps, just as the earliest stars ascend. Within the hour it will be dawn. Dimitri and Dedue take the lead, and Felix and I head up the rear. It’s a quiet group.

I’m still shocked Felix agreed to come, especially after being roused from bed in the middle of the night. Dimitri insisted it be me that asked him, knowing fully that Felix wouldn’t listen to a word he said. Coming from me it would be different, and we needed his agility and speed, Dimitri pushed. As if he were never asleep at all, nearly as soon as I knocked, Felix rose to the door, a look of resigned annoyance on his face. We knew he wouldn’t be too opposed to running an unofficial errand, one that would no doubt earn reprimand (or worse) from the church. After hearing my request for his aid in taking out Solon, his face softened, and he looked distant. He mumbled something about keeping Dimitri in line, went to change into his armor, and was out within ten minutes.

Dedue was a given. The only time Dedue was ever used to being far from his highnesses’ side was at night, and even then, sometimes I could tell from the glaze in his eyes during seminar that he was kept up, wondering and worrying about the sounds of the opening and closing of Dimitri’s dormitory door. The time Dimitri had spent with me, away from him, had put Dedue out of sorts, and so I think this outing was reassuring to him in a way, a reminder that he still belonged to his lord.

By now, the monastery is no longer a faint reassuring pinprick of light behind us. Felix’s gaze shifts to the side of the forest, and he raises his hand. Our signal. He hisses to Dimitri and Dedue to slow up. In tandem, we shift our grip to our swords just as we realize what Felix saw. A shadow of a girl, or rather, a small woman stands between two trees. I can feel the eyes of the boys on me, their breathing unintentionally heavy, still unused to the terrorizing moments before conflict erupts. She moves first.

The woman is spry, throwing her dagger toward me before sending out a spray of sparks, cackling all the while. The dagger grazes my cheek before landing in the dirt. I swear I see her somersault as she deftly grasps the dagger and tucks herself back into the trees. We form a circle, back to back, eyes scanning for the woman. Little ties me down to the gravity of our situation besides the sounds of our steps and the bump of elbows against my own. This must be what it feels like to be prey. We knew we were walking into their territory, knowing they would find us before we found them. Instead of seeing the slippery shadow of the sprite-like woman, we see a distant orb glowing strangely appear on the path, meters away. Then the begging. Unmistakably high pitched and female. It’s the woman. We strain our ears to make out the words of the tortured soul, but it's masked by a low rumbling through the forest, like the sound a mountain makes before you see the avalanche. As the rumbling reaches a crescendo, we hear a guttural shout. Then the darkness moves. From the direction of the orb, a cloud of black moves like an iron wall towards us. When we move to run, it circles us from every direction, above and below. It does not occur to me to turn away. Somewhere behind this fog are the ones responsible for my father’s death. The dark smoke extends like an appendage toward my sword, which glows in bright contrast. Just as the two make contact I hear an old, fragile, satisfied voice. “Thank you, Kronya.”

The tendrils curl lustily around my sword and creep down my arm. I can see Dimitri's face contorted, slipping into a panicked rage. Though his mouth moves, all I hear is an empty silence. As the darkness shrouds me, it fades from around the others, who watch, paralyzed. Dimitri's panic turns to desperation and he turns to me, as if looking to me to help, to fix this. I open my mouth to speak, but my lips are numb. I am aware of Dimitri’s hand reaching for me, and at that moment, the blackness swallows me completely.

~

A tiny hand brushes the spare wisps of hair from my forehead, absentmindedly twirling it around.“You should know I am highly disappointed in you." This voice I know. I’ve known it since I was old enough to separate dreams and reality. Her voice always sounds dull with boredom, yet laced with bells. “It’s not like you to rush in without considering the consequences. Grief is a powerful tonic, I suppose. Were you really prepared to die?” ” 

I hear the tinkling of her jewels as she rests her head in her hands. There is a dichotomy in her. She is both child and as old as time. She floats above me as if to get a better view, and she puts her hands firmly onto my shoulders. She takes her time caressing the rest of my body, leaving a warm tingling as she goes, distracting me from her question with her touch. In this ether world, this in-between space, I wonder at the option of void. A void where I could no longer grieve my father, where I could no longer even feel the thirst for revenge, a world where I could no longer feel pain. Sothis’ hands move up my body once again, lingering over places I’ve been wounded, places where I’ve longed to feel soft touch. I am reminded of the other side of the void. The here. The here that is there. The here where Dimitri is yelling my name and cursing at an empty shell of me.

“That’s what I thought.” She whispers smugly in my ear. You aren’t done yet. You’ve become fond of the little ones. Especially the blonde one. I know your heart far better than you do," she chuckles. There is one thing left we can do. If it is to be, I'm glad it shall be with you." At this she pauses for a long time, her emerald gaze piercing into me. "We will become one. I am the beginning and you are the end. We are one goddess, you, and me. Both sides of time belong to us. There is yet enough strength in your heart. We must pray. " "The fell star consumes even darkness itself.”

As she breathes these words, like an incantation, I begin to feel a rising within me, starting in my core, ecstasy surging out of every pore in my body, lighting pulsing through my veins. I am a glass of shimmering golden liquid about to overflow. I forget myself as everything I am is replaced with light. I release my consciousness. I give in.

My limbs feel as stiff and shaky as if I had never used them before. As if I was a baby faun, straining for the motivation to wobble to my feet. The sun peeks over the horizon. Dimitri is pale as a sheet, sweating, leaning over me. Dedue looks at Dimitri much the same way Dimitri looks at me. Felix turns away, fed up with loss, with pain. I run my fingers through the dirt. I'm back. I hear Dimitri’s sharp intake as he laughs in disbelief and grasps my hand.

“Professor?”

“Dimitri?” I silently judge myself for not thinking of something more intelligent to say at such a poignant moment, but my shock rivals his.

“You look…different.” His eyes search me, checking to see if I am counterfeit. “Your eyes… your hair.” I don’t have the energy to explain. Not yet anyway. More than anything I want to sleep. I grasp his elbow like a needy child, and immediately he understands. As he lifts me up, I nestle my head into his chest , and I give in once again.


	9. Genesis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Suggestions:  
> Je t'Adore by Eurielle

Chapter 9: Genesis

I tread lightly down the spiral staircase to the temple, checking behind me every few steps. Even if this is a shrine to Seiros, and I am her incarnate, I can’t help but feel as if I am intruding on holy ground. I’ve never been to church of my own accord before. The massive carved door is heavy and creaks slightly as I push it open. Not a soul in sight, but the chapel seems alive with candles of all heights and sizes, scattered about the floor. I lift my nightgown to avoid catching it on the lapping flames. Since the day we merged, I’ve felt shockingly empty without Sothis’ constant voice, though I see pieces of her every time I look into the mirror at my mint-colored hair and electric eyes. I thought by coming here I might be able to feel close to her again.

A long, velvet cushion invites me to kneel in front of the altar. Upon it, rests a bronze statue of Seiros, her eyes full of war, gazing frozen into eternity. The incense smells potently of balsam and myrrh, dizzying my senses. I dip my fingers into the chalice of holy water, close my eyes, and try to pray for what feels like hours.

~

“It seems the goddess is present with us today.” Dimitri’s low whisper shakes me from the fruitless frustration of trying to commune with Sothis. I allow myself a halfhearted smile and shake my head. I can’t tell if he’s teasing me or if he’s as bewildered as I am by yesterday’s events. A bundle of anxiety has been growing inside me since then, wondering at his true thoughts.

“I...I wonder at how all of this must seem to you. To have been waiting so long for a sign from the Goddess… and then… this. I can hardly make this seem real to myself. I just need to know if you can believe me. If you can accept this…this…me. ” I can’t bring myself to make eye contact with him, afraid of anger, of defiance, of resentment, but when I turn to him, all I see is adoration.

His eyes shine with something akin to wonder. “How could I ever doubt you? You pierced the sky right in front of me. You came back from the dead. There is no other explanation. The Goddess saw the goodness of Seiros in you.” He looks down sheepishly. “I wonder what that makes me.” I see the familiar darkness slither into his expression as if he’s chastising himself. In the heavy silence we both think of the evil king, mad with power, that Seiros was sent to vanquish, her holiness enough to smite him.

Dimitri faces me, looking at me long and hard. He brings his hands to rest on my hips, his fingers reaching at my inner thighs. I am strikingly aware of the thinness of my nightgown. “Byleth” he whispers softly into his ear, the sound of my first name grounding me back in myself. “I need you to purify me.”

At this, he crawls toward me, leaving me no option but to lay back onto the cushion. His bangs hang low across his hungry eyes, taking in the view. All at once, his hands are warm under my gown, shyly, hungrily reaching beneath my undergarments, exploring their boundaries before pulling them down. “You. You are my goddess.” As he says this, I feel his fingers enter me, pilgrims to a blessed portal. My face flushes as he leans down to kiss my neck, my cheeks, my lips, his breath hot against me. Even as I force my own silence, my body betrays my feelings. As he kisses his way down my body, I feel my nipples harden under my gown. He rests his face for a moment at the indent between my hips, taking a long deliberate breath. He pushes his fingers in and out of me, deeper each time, increasing his pressure. Dimitri stops, making direct eye contact with me. “I need you to anoint me.” He raises two of his fingers, wet with me, and puts them in his mouth, relishing the moment. With a sigh, he lies coyly down on the cushion. “Come here,” he breathes, fumbling at the buttons to his pants.

He looks so vulnerable, lying beneath me, the faint trail of hair just beneath his navel visible as I lift his shirt. I trace my finger down it and pull his undershorts down, seeing him fully for the first time. I look into his blue eyes, pulling me in like the tide. I straddle him, feeling his cock hard up against me, no more thin cloth between us. Nothing separating us anymore. I rest my hands on his biceps, holding him down as I glide against him.

“Please, please, please… Make me.” Dimitri begs. I know exactly where he wants to be. My body tenses with nerves. Glancing at the length of him, it might hurt. He’s pulsing against me now, harder then before, and I wonder if it aches. I adjust his base and pull him flush against me. Right as I do so he pushes up into the farthest reaches of me, and I gasp. In that moment, I swear we are one body, no beginning or end separating either of us. I ride him, watching as his face morphs from shock, to pleasure, to a kind of urgent panic as I feel him quiver beneath me. He stutters, “I… I.. I am going to… “Ahh...Oh... Aghh!” Without pulling out, exhaustedly, he reaches for me, and I collapse into his arms.

~

After a brief moment of bliss, we glance at the statue of Seiros, hellfire still in her eyes. My mind starts racing at the heresy we’ve just committed, and I rashly grasp for my cloak, wordlessly promising to Dimitri to be with him soon. I walk as fast as I can without running back to my quarters to collapse onto my bed, and as I do, I feel a warm drip between my thighs, the only evidence of reality as I guide myself to a wonderland of dreams.


	10. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suggested Listening: Love and Honor by Celtic Woman

Chapter 10: Revelation

The crisp wintry air from outside chases us into the tomb. We are an odd procession of sorts. Rhea and Seteth lead us down. Down a cracked staircase, through an enchanted door, toward some supposed epiphany, the pair looking solemnly ahead all the while. Flayn trails her brother, bouncing along, lost in some far-off daydream. I walk behind them, feeling like an impostor, dressed up as a member of their strange family. Behind me, Dimitri and Dedue stand shoulder to shoulder, staring at the back of my neck as if it were made of porcelain, liable to break, needing to be guarded. Dimitri’s expression is cold and concentrated, any hint of the desire from last night wiped away. I watch his hand touch the dagger again as if verifying its presence. I know he’s been carrying it obsessively since we saw the ones who killed my father.

As we descend further into the crypt, I catch a glimpse of Rhea looking at me in the light of a glowing orb, conjured in her hand. When we make eye contact, she smiles, subtly enough that no one else sees, and then looks away, plunging her face into shadow once again. I feel a shudder down my spine. At last, we reach a wide archway, enormous statues of the saints looming over us. This catacomb beneath Garreg Mach is nearly as large as the main church several stories above it. I suppose the dead must also need their place of sanctity. I hold my breath, fearing any noise I make will echo endlessly. I strain my eyes, adjusting to the darkness, illuminated only by the green glow from Rhea. She turns to me and opens her arms as if to embrace me, but moves no closer.

“My child, daughter of Jeralt, childof Seiros, what a momentous day has come upon us here. Tell me, do you recognize this throne?” She gestures, casting emerald light upon a stone seat. Its enormity is imposing, yet it takes me back to that strange in-between space in my mind, where Sothis, seemingly so small, rested upon it. Unsure how, or whether, to explain this, I nod.

“You. You are her chosen vessel. I am certain our goddess will prophesy to you upon this seat, her throne upon the world of men.”

In that instant, a shade of temper mars her peaceful expression as she gazes behind Sothis’ seat. “We are not alone here.” Her orb becomes a flaming torch as she casts blazing light upon a group of knights, imperials, lances at the ready, in the shadows ahead. I realize now why Seteth insisted that Dimitri and Dedue accompany us. They must have known something was amiss.

Without hesitating, Dimitri advances toward them. “Reveal yourself! Reveal yourself or you shall be slain where you stand! Why are you here?” With the last question, I hear his voice crack, his chivalrous veneer fading into rage. I follow him, and from the shadows, I see the gleaming crimson and white mask of the Flame Emperor staring straight ahead back at me.

The Flame Emperor speaks calmly to her underlings as if she were reading a to-do list. “Take the crest stones. Kill if you need to. We must not delay.”

Rhea and Seteth ready to fight, but they aren’t fast enough. While they prepare, Dimitri has already made up his mind. I watch Seteth’s expression of concern turn to alarm as Dimitri hurls his lance straight toward the Flame Emperor’s heart. The force of the blow from Dimitri’s lance knocks the emperor to the ground, and the gleaming mask falls the floor, revealing a pale face, with violet eyes and platinum hair. Her face is placid and resigned. “Dimitri.”

Then, Dimitri laughs. Harder than I’ve ever heard him laugh before. I see death in his eyes. “Is this…some kind of twisted joke?” He steps closer to her, crushing the mask, hand on the dagger. I rush forward and grab his elbow, silently pleading for him to wait. For Rhea, for Seteth, for anyone but him to start this conflict. Without making eye contact, he forcefully shoves me backward, forcing me to let go of him.

“I’ve been looking for you. Before you die, the way scum like you should die. I need to know why. What kind of mindless beast kills her own mother?”

“That was not my doing. There is nothing else I can say to make you believe me.”

Through clenched teeth I hear Dimitri's vow. "I am going to tear your head from your shoulders and hang it from the gates of Enbarr."

At that moment, Dimitri’s capability for language, for reasoning, is lost. He lunges toward her. I hear a sickening crack as he shoves a guard’s neck back as the man rushes to shield Edelgard. Blood spatters across Dimitri’s face. The soldier sinks to his knees and does not move. Barely a second later, Edelgard evaporates into violet light.

Rhea does not need to speak. Her hardened expression and her steely gaze are enough to declare war.

_~_

When we reach the surface again, the sun feels like a lie. The students walking in and out of study halls can’t be part of the world I just saw. The world where I watched the Flame Emperor become Edelgard. Where I watched Dimitri kill a man with his bare hands.

I try to follow Dimitri back. He intentionally speeds up so I can’t walk next to him. He won’t look at me. When we reach his dorm, he shuts the door as if I weren’t there at all.

Weeks pass. He does not speak to me. I only ever see him at the training grounds, tearing apart straw men and sharpening his lance.

~

From the turret, I can see them. Thousands of Imperial troops. We are heavily outnumbered. My armor is polished, my sword futilely sharpened. I try Dimitri one last time. For the first time since before the incident, he opens the door after my first knock. There’s a look of childish glee on his face. I can’t fathom his thoughts, so I say mine instead. “This is going to be rough.” He only shakes his head and chuckles.

“What do you mean? My father. My stepmother. My dear friends. They want her head. They’ve whispered it to me. I finally get to answer their pleas. I haven't been able to rest until I can satisfy them, and finally, I have my chance.” With those parting words, he strides to his battle station without so much as a glance back at me.

_~_

_The behemoth burns. The church of Seiros bleeds smoke from every crack in her high walls. Beasts with the bronze masks of human faces trample soldiers underfoot. Countless hours of maps, strategies, and meetings, for this? This chaos of flesh and soot. Our units dissolved nearly as soon as the battle began. Faces meld into one and other. This is no longer a place I know. It is hell, and we are the demons. If I run toward the monastery, I’ll become part of the ash. I can’t place even one of my students. I am useless._

_In my mind, all I can see is Dimitri’s warped smile. Is this what he wanted? I run. My lungs burn. I force myself onward. The enemy is right behind me. I want to be sick. Then it stops me. I turn and see the view. The same cliff where Dimitri kissed me. Where I was the goddess’ answer to him. I may never see him again. The momentary distraction costs me. The ground rumbles, the earth sloughs off beneath me, and I fall off the precipice, out of life, into memory._

_._


	11. Part II: Azure Moon (Dimitri) Chapter 11: The Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A shape with lion body and the head of a man,  
> A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,  
> Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it  
> Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.  
> The darkness drops again; but now I know  
> That twenty centuries of stony sleep  
> Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,  
> And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,  
> Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?" - "The Second Coming", William Butler Yeats
> 
> Suggested Listening: Midnight's Tale by Adrian Von Ziegler

Part II: Azure Moon (Dimitri)

Chapter 11: The Cage

Night has fallen. I slouch toward the monastery. Or rather, the flaming husk of what used to be the monastery, it’s regality is corroding with the flames, slowly dying down. Some part of me is aware of the pain pounding through my body, but I continue anyway.

My mind is back at the castle in Fhirdiad, the hellscape of so many of my dreams. The flesh of my companions, my family, melting in the blaze. The head of my father staring back at me unblinking from the floor. “Why didn’t you stop them? Useless…” it whispers. The sickly-sweet scent of corpses brings bile to my throat. I kneel to the ground to be sick, the ground spinning out from under me. When I try to stand again, I nearly fall backward, but feel a large hand catch me. Dedue.

“My lord. We need to go inside. It’s not safe for you here.”

Safe. What a ludicrous word. Not having the energy to resist, I gather myself and follow Dedue up the steps to Garreg Mach. Bricks and ash still fall around the main entrance, so we go around the back, toward the tunnel to the temple, tucked underground, away from the fire and smoke.

The heavy door slams behind us, and the room feels cold compared to the battlefield outside. All the candles are out, the bronze statue of Seiros is only visible by the lantern held by Seteth, his sister beside him, kneeling at the altar. I don’t know what they could possibly be praying for. What hasn’t been lost already? Then with a second glance at the statue, the altar, I think of her, of us, what we did here, and it hits me all at once. The Professor. Byleth. Today… did she come to speak to me before the battle? I rattle my brain to try to think of the last time I spoke to her, but nothing comes. It’s been days, weeks maybe. I can feel panic rising inside me, my heart pounding. Where has my mind been? What have I done? Then denial. She must have survived. There’s no way someone like her could’ve perished. Not after what I’ve seen her do before. I steel myself.

“Seteth.”

“Yes, your highness.

“I have a question.”

“Yes, your highness.” His exhaustion is audible.

“Where’s the Professor?” The briefest hint of grief sneaks into Seteth’s stoic expression.

He sighs and closes his eyes. “A group of the knights saw one of the demonic beasts running toward her near the cliffs. When the knights went to find her, the entire cliffside had fallen into the canyon under the weight of the beast. It is more than likely that she fell with it.” At this, he breaks eye contact with me. Flayn makes a sound and then looks down. I can see her cheeks wet with tears. “The Professor is dead.” His words echo in the temple, but they don’t land in my mind. I have no schema for this situation. Byleth could handle anything. She had come back from the dead before. And yet… why would Seteth lie? I need to go. I need to go somewhere I can prepare, prepare to look for her. To look for Edelgard. No. To kill Edelgard. The drive to move toward her dissolves my exhaustion. The temple suddenly seems smothering, stuffy. I need to get out.

“I’m leaving. I'm going back to the Kingdom.”

Seteth stands as if to stop me. “My lord. You cannot travel. The road is no longer safe, especially not for you.”

I hear these words as I let the door slam behind me. It reopens with a creak. It’s Dedue, not Seteth, running after me. Dedue’s eyes look worried, anxious, but he has never spoken against me before and doesn’t have the strength to now. We gather our supplies and leave that same night along the road, north, toward Fhirdiad.

~

As much as I wanted to kill him, I wasn’t the one who did. It must have been her. That wretched woman. Cornelia. I hear her patronizing tone on repeat in my mind as I stare at the ceiling of my cell. “Crown Prince Dimitri of Fhirdiad, you are formally convicted of the cold-blooded murder of Grand Duke Rufus Blaiydd. You are hereby sentenced to death by beheading in three weeks’ time.”

The thought of my own death means little to me, but my family spurs me on, whispering to me in the night and in the endlessly empty hours of the day. I know they cannot tolerate my inaction here in my cell as Edelgard grows ever stronger, ruling, free of consequence. I shudder. I look at the rotting plates of uneaten food piling up in the corner, haphazardly shoved into my cell. Cornelia's men must want me to suffer, to fear death. That, or they want to make an example of me. Otherwise, they wouldn’t bother trying to keep me alive. What a farce. Each moment is a struggle between obeying the voices and giving in to my own selfish desire for eternal rest.

Someone as weak as me doesn’t deserve the comfort or warmth of food. Ever since the tragedy I haven’t even been able to taste it, and yet, until now, I forced it down, play-acting at life, living to obey the whims and orders of the voices inside my head. Pretending to be a prince, a student, someone others could respect, even as my hands dripped with blood. All of them playing along. How could they not see the blood all over me?

Felix could. He was perhaps the only one who treated me like the beast I am. That first rebellion we were sent to quash. We were sent as young lords, to test our mettle in battle against a minor uprising. The moment we arrived, everything faded from my view but the scene of the tragedy. I was fourteen again, but this time I had a lance and the strength to wield it, everything I needed to spill the blood of the people who murdered my family. When I came back to reality, all that surrounded me were a dozen dead men, puddles of their blood, and Felix, staring at me with a look of horror that never quite left his face. He didn’t speak to me for months afterward. I still don't remember what I did.

Then there was Dedue, the boy I found huddled in a back room of his house, shaking, next to the corpses of his family. We passed through Dedue's village on our tour to try to bring peace to Duscur, but it was too late. We tried to stop the pogroms, but the people of Faerghus refused to believe that the people of Duscur were blameless in the death of my family. After we took him in, Dedue showed me an unfettered kindness that almost sickened me. After months of trying to push him away, I gave in. His constant presence and reassurance became a fixture in my life as reliable as the rise and set of the sun or the turning of the seasons: a comfort that I didn’t deserve.

It’s difficult to tell the passage of time, with no window to the outside. There is only the shoving of plates and water jugs that I no longer have the energy to pile in a corner. They just sit, untouched, mocking me. Sleeping and waking are no longer so different from each other. Though I have a simple cot, I stay on the floor. As the hunger and thirst take over my mind, the last and most formidable ghost slithers into my mind. Her. My professor. My Byleth. As if I could call her mine. If there was anyone I deserved even less than Dedue it was her. Her smile. Her touch. Her gentle laugh you could only hear if you leaned in so close. The only reason I even made it this far. It should have been me at the bottom of the canyon. It would have been, if not for her. How much had I neglected her? My only goodbye to her had been turned backs and words of war. I would never be able to thank her for any of it. For quieting my mind, for hoping with me, for touching me. Thoughts of our time in the temple physically pain me. I do not deserve even thoughts of past pleasure. Not when I’m too weak and useless to even avenge her. To kill that snake. That creature that calls itself human. Edelgard.

~

The latch rattles. The turn of a key. Then a whisper: “My lord.” In a half-starved daze, I look up at Dedue’s face, covered in fresh scratches. Blood running into his eyes. “We have a horse for you. My men are standing guard. You need to leave. I’m going to stay here and fend them off.” Before I can protest, he lifts me, easily. Days of not eating have made me lighter. Slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, he runs me out of the fortress. The bodies of guards are slumped all around us. “More are coming. You need to go. Ride. Ride as far as you can.” I feel myself going through the motions of mounting the horse, Dedue kicks it hard, launching me into the night, leaving him to die.


	12. Autumn Feast

My mind is no longer with my body. The horse rides on without any prodding from me, and I cling to its neck with all the strength I have left. There is no moon tonight. Dedue must have planned it this way. I contemplate trying to turn around, to get back to him, but even if I had the muscle to kick the horse, I wouldn’t remember the twists and turns we took to leave the fortress, so well concealed in the forest. In the near-complete darkness, I can’t even see around the next bend of the trail.

Hours pass this way until I start to see the first morning stars. I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be carried. The feeling starts to lull me back into torpor. It is only when I start to hear the horse panting and feel cold sweat running down its shoulders that I wonder if it had somehow been enchanted, ordered to ride until its own death. It looked back toward me with panicked, bloodshot eyes that mirrored my own. Its movements are less graceful and it’s beginning to trip on rocks in the road. I can’t let another being throw its life away for me. I throw myself off the horse. A sharp pain in my temple. Then nothing.

I must have blacked out. I wake up with all the wind knocked out of me, lying flat on my back, with a searing headache. Maddeningly, the horse is still staring down at me. The fear of death has receded from its face. I feel my chest rattle and sit up so that I can cough. I see a spatter of red on my hands. It’s daylight, now, about noon from the look of the sun, and here I am, laying like a dead creature in the middle of the trail. I take stock of my body parts. My arms and legs are sore but usable. My neck is stiff. My head is still spinning from hunger. I can’t remember the last time I drank water. There is a stabbing sensation chest. I take off the dirty undershirt to reveal dark green bruising all over my torso. I can see all my ribs. I stand, shakily, every step cautious and unsure. The horse nickers and trots away as I follow it to a stream. Like the two beasts we are, each of us bends down to the creek. I splash my face. I cup my hands and stare at the particles floating in the water. I drink it anyway. I drink it until I start to feel slightly bloated, and then I lay down again, pondering the canopy above me. The leaves have no one to disappoint, no decisions to make. I envy their simple life. To grow, to wilt, to die, with no pain, no loss. I close my eyes and again, the world fades.

~

Too comfortable to die. Too tired to do a god damned thing about myself. Or Edelgard for that matter. I try to forget her name. I try to forget my own name. I almost succeed. For weeks I live this way under the leaves. I make my shelter against a massive wrinkled oak tree with only the bedroll in my pack. At night my back rests against knotty roots. In the mornings I turn over rocks and eat beetles. I stalk and spear rabbits with the shoddy lance I made from fastening my dagger to a stick.

It screams. I snap the rodent’s neck. I let the warmth of being fed wash over me, indulgently, selfishly. The pounding in my own head never ceases. Blood. Blood. Blood. It says, forcing me to eke out my existence. The taste of copper burns inside of my mouth. Blood. It runs so easily. Death comes so quickly. Dead. You should be dead. If only, I had died in Fhirdiad…I think fondly. Tiny corpses pile up around me. Fur covered in maggots. Holes where there should be eyes. Crows cackle at me, mingling over my kill. I just sit, unwilling to think, my back against the massive oak tree that marks my camp. I wipe the scarlet stains from my hands to my face, a strand of hair plastered to my forehead. I don’t deserve to be clean.

The base of the oak tree is fertilized with my prey. I wish to become one with the soil. To be sucked up into the roots. To become a leaf. To fall. To die innocently. The leaves bury my sins. The crows and rats become hungrier. They land on me, demanding to know my hunting secrets. What made me so good at death? The wind howls, and soon the rabbits are gone. I have no real shield from the elements but my pack and the side of the oak. The days grow short.

I feel a tickling at the bottom of my bedroll. Tiny feet scamper up my chest and onto my face. A moment of clarity. It thinks I’m dead. The rat thinks I’m dead. A radiating ball of joy rises in my chest at the thought that perhaps the rat is correct. I raise my hand gently to my face, not wanting to frighten it away, needing to know if this is the sign I’ve been waiting for. I stroke its back as it sinks its jaw into my eye. The pain is exhilarating.


End file.
